


been tryin’ hard not to get into trouble

by bloodscout



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aftercare, Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Yuri Plisetsky, Daddy Kink, Discipline, Dom Otabek Altin, Hand Jobs, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Sub Yuri Plisetsky, Top Otabek Altin, daddybek, will i ever write anything other than pwps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 10:58:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11356095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodscout/pseuds/bloodscout
Summary: “Katsuki tells me you interrupted Viktor’s practice time today, Yura. Is that true?”Yuri swallows. “Yes.” He replies, trying to sound confident. “But I need the practice time if I’m going to beat them both at Worlds.”Otabek hums, still not looking at Yuri. He picks at his nails, continuing to give off the impression that he doesn’t much care about the whole situation. “If you’re going to beat them both a Worlds,” Otabek says, voice carefully neutral. He sits up, taking his feet from off the table but maintaining his air of quiet disinterest. “You’re going to have to be a bit moregracious.”





	been tryin’ hard not to get into trouble

**Author's Note:**

> if u had told me a week ago that i would be writing a yurabek daddy kink fic i would have passed out tbh.  
> not sure about this one, but i wrote it so hey, why not post it?  
> title from “ride” by the queen of daddy kink, lana del rey.

When Yuri comes home, Otabek is sitting on the couch with his feet propped up on the table. He still has his riding boots on, and his legs are crossed at the ankle. The pose would look perfectly innocent to anybody else, but for Yuri, it is a signal of what Otabek is intending for tonight, and it sends a shiver down his spine. Otabek’s eyes are turned away when he speaks.

 

“Katsuki tells me you interrupted Viktor’s practice time today, Yura. Is that true?”

 

Yuri swallows. “Yes.” He replies, trying to sound confident. “But I need the practice time if I’m going to beat them both at Worlds.”

 

Otabek hums, still not looking at Yuri. He picks at his nails, continuing to give off the impression that he doesn’t much care about the whole situation. “If you’re going to beat them both a Worlds,” Otabek says, voice carefully neutral. He sits up, taking his feet from off the table but maintaining his air of quiet disinterest. “You’re going to have to be a bit more _gracious_.”

 

That was Yuri’s theme this year, grace. Having just come out of the ungainly period of his late teens, he had finally grown into his height, and wanted to show that in his skating. But Otabek seemed to think that grace of movement also meant grace of character, apparently, and never ceased bringing it up.

 

“Come here, then.” He pats his leg, and Yuri walks over like he’s drawn by a magnet. “What am I going to do with you?” Otabek mutters, finally turning to look Yuri in the eyes. His gaze holds Yuri in place, commanding and all-encompassing.

 

Otabek raises his eyebrows, and looks down pointedly, so it’s all Yuri can do to fall to his knees at the silent command, bracketed by Otabek’s thighs. Otabek cups Yuri’s cheek with one hand, and Yuri leans into the touch.

 

“Yura.” Otabek purrs, drawing out the final vowel. “You know I’m going to have to punish you for being so rude.”

 

Yuri shivers again. His eyelids flutter closed. “Yes, Beka.” He whispers.

 

Otabek digs his fingers into the meat of Yuri’s cheek and tugs his face upwards so that his neck is extended. “Yes who?”

 

Yuri speaks a little louder this time, staring defiantly into Otabek’s eyes. “Yes, Daddy.”

 

“What am I going to do with you?” Otabek repeats, pensive this time, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. Yuri tracks the movement with his eyes, his pupils going wide.

 

He pats the spot beside him, and Yuri clambers up onto the couch. Otabek tugs at the collar of Yuri’s shirt until he is splayed over Otabek’s lap, and Yuri feels a thrill run up his spine, knowing exactly what Otabek is going to do to him. He shifts a bit, getting comfortable over Otabek’s knee, as Otabek smooths a palm over the swell of Yuri’s ass, lightly kneading at the muscles there.

 

“You know you’re only allowed to be a brat with me.” Otabek chastises, digging his fingers into the meat of Yuri’s ass.

 

Suddenly, Otabek yanks down Yuri’s practice leggings, and the rush of cold air causes Yuri to draw in a sharp breath.

 

“Green?” Otabek asks quickly. His voice is husky, and Yuri drinks in the sound of it.

 

“Green.” Yuri breathes out, and braces for Otabek’s hand.

 

The first strike is light, all things considering, and it only stings a little.

 

“You’re going to count to thirty.” Otabek instructs. “That was number one. You’re going to tell me if it gets too much, immediately, ok, Yura?”

 

Yuri nods, face smushed into the couch cushion. “Yes, Daddy.”

 

Otabek’s hand comes down again after that, and the shock of it makes Yuri jolt forward.

 

“Two.” He counts as he breaths through the sharp sting.

 

Otabek’s slaps him twice after that, Yuri croaking out a staccato “Three, four.” Otabek is still letting his hits fall reasonably lightly, but Yuri is a squirmy bottom, unable to stay still for long. Otabek hits him a fifth time, this one harder than the others, and Yuri cries out before he can count again. Otabek begins a rhythm, waiting until Yuri has counted the blow before laying down another one. Yuri feels his whole focus zero in on his ass, breathing through the quick pain on Otabek’s strikes. He loves how attentive Otabek gets like this, like his entire life has been building up to him slapping Yuri around. They are both hard, and if Yuri shifted a little, their erections would brush together. Yuri is being punished, though, so he stays still, taking Otabek’s strikes without protest. His vision starts to blur around the edges by the time Otabek reaches the fourteenth slap, and Otabek lays a calming hand on his shoulder. He pauses for a moment, rubbing Yuri’s ass and shoulder in tandem.

 

“So good for me, Yura. You’re taking this discipline so well.” He praises, voice soft.

 

Yuri hums into the cushion, and blinks his eyes at the wetness that is forming there. He allows his breathing to get back to normal, before nodding. Otabek slaps him again, and the sound of the strike and Yuri’s keening cry intermingle in the otherwise quiet apartment.

 

“Fifteen.” He manages, and Otabek strikes him again before the word is even over.

 

Yuri’s body locks up for the next strike, but he knows he’s more than half way there now, so he’s determined to work through the pain. Tears are falling from his eyes now, soaking into the couch, and Otabek’s slaps are unrelenting, following a pattern only he knows. Yuri is surprised each time, never expecting when the next blow will fall. His ass is bright red by now, and will hopefully bruise. He wants something to look at in the mirror in the morning.

 

“Twenty-eight.” He says through gritted teeth.

 

Otabek slaps him again, the hardest yet. Yuri is almost there, he just needs to work through this last strike, and then his Daddy will be so impressed with him, so proud.

 

“Twenty-nine.”

 

Otabek lands the hardest strike of all, square on the reddest, sorest part of Yuri’s ass, and Yuri shouts, a sob breaking from his chest. He has to breathe for a few beats before he can choke out a quiet “Thirty”, and then Otabek is flipping him over, holding Yuri to his chest. He smooths a hand over Yuri’s hair, brushes away the strands that are sticking to his wet cheeks.

 

“Shh, shh, you were so good for Daddy.” Otabek whispers, holding Yuri until the other man relaxes in his arms. “My good little boy, you took that so well.”

 

Yuri waits until his breathing evens out and the hiccupping gasps have disappeared. He lets Otabek’s words wash over him, sweet platitudes that somewhat soothe the stinging of his ass. Then, Otabek palms Yuri’s dick through his leggings, and Yuri goes stiff again. Otabek rubs light over the length of him, and Yuri has to bite his lip to keep control. He wanted to buck up into Otabek’s hand, beg for more friction, but he gets the sense that his punishment isn’t over yet. Otabek cups the back of Yuri’s head and pulls him in for a deep, messy kiss, nipping at Yuri’s lips until they are spit-slick and swollen.

 

“Let’s go to the bedroom.” Otabek suggests, breathing coming noticeably heavier.

 

Otabek scoops Yuri up and carries him, bridal style, down the hall. Yuri feels incredibly safe in Otabek’s arms, feeling the flexing of muscle under his back and legs. Otabek’s strength never fails to make him feel a bit light-headed. Otabek drops Yuri onto the bed somewhat unceremoniously, and Yuri grins up at him as he bounces.

 

“Undress.” Otabek orders, and his tone makes Yuri’s dick jump.

 

Yuri is quick to peel off his clothes, tossing them to the floor until he is naked in front of Otabek. Otabek is equally hasty in undressing, and soon his tan chest is revealed in front of Yuri. He draws in a gasp, appreciating the view. Otabek climbs onto the bed, crowding Yuri with his knees on either side of Yuri’s hips and his elbows on either side of his shoulder. Otabek is smaller than Yuri, now, but he still manages to be very imposing when he wants to. Maybe it’s the eyebrows.

 

“Do you want me to fuck you, baby?” Otabek croons, in a tone that says he knows exactly what Yuri’s answer is going to be.

 

Yuri’s words get stuck in his throat, and he gasps silently for a few moments before he can say “Yes, Daddy, please fuck me.”

 

Otabek smiles his small smile that is reserved for Yuri and Yuri alone, and reaches over to grab the lube from the bedside table.  He is slow about slicking his fingers, slow about trailing his index finger down Yuri’s balls and over his perineum, and finally over Yuri’s hole. Otabek’s touch is gentle, teasing, and Yuri knows he’s going to be begging before the night is done. Otabek draws lazy circles, making Yuri relax underneath his lubed digit, before pressing in just up to the first knuckle. Yuri gasps at the intrusion, feeling the sensation go straight to his cock. Otabek starts to move, then, thrusting slowly on just one finger, and it is slowly sending Yuri insane.  Yuri’s ass still aches from the spanking earlier, but he needs Otabek’s fingers in him more than he thinks he’s ever needed anything before.

 

“Please, Daddy, I can take more.” Yuri whines after a while, his hole clenching and relaxing around Otabek’s single finger.

 

“Not yet.” Otabek says, and slaps Yuri lightly on the thigh.

 

Otabek slows down after that interruption, just dragging his finger in and out, twisting a little as he pulls back. Yuri rolls his eyes back into his head, and feels a drop of precum drip from his cock onto his stomach. Then, Otabek leans down and bites at Yuri’s hip, and as Yuri is crying out from the pain of Otabek’s teeth sinking into his skin, Otabek places a second finger alongside the first. When Yuri is still getting used to the stretch, he crooks his fingers up to meet Yuri’s prostate, and Yuri is keening under him.

 

“Daddy, daddy, please.” Yuri cries, not really sure what he’s asking for other than _more, more, more_.

 

Otabek rubs firmly over that spot, and Yuri’s cock is leaking in earnest now. Yuri is letting out little breathy whines as Otabek sends sparks through his body with that firm pressure. Then, all of a sudden, Otabek stops touching Yuri’s prostate, and Yuri very nearly sobs. Otabek starts to scissor his fingers, and the stretch is good, but it’s not enough. Yuri reaches for his dick, trying to chase the sensation. He is achingly hard, and it is such a relief to wrap his hand around his cock. But Otabek grips his wrist, stilling his hand.

 

“Did I tell you that you could touch yourself?” Otabek asks, tone stern.

 

“No, Daddy.” Yuri whispers.

 

“So don’t.” Otabek says, like it’s that easy. Yuri feels like he’s about to fly apart.

 

Otabek’s fingers move again, and by the time he adds a third finger, Yuri is mewling pathetically. He is so painfully turned on, but isn’t any closer to release.

 

“Come on, Daddy, I’m ready now, I need you to fuck me.” Yuri pleads, hands scrabbling around in the sheets.

 

Otabek shakes his head, still moving his fingers slowly. “Not yet, baby.”

 

He removes his fingers to slick them up again, and Yuri whines at the loss. Otabek pushes back in, and Yuri feels full, but it’s not enough. It’s not Otabek’s cock. He bucks up into the air, wanting friction but not finding any. Otabek pushes his fingers in up to the third knuckle, and Yuri sucks in a breath at the stretch. It’s so good, makes him feel completely full and entirely Otabek’s, but he wants more. Otabek crooks his fingers again, and Yuri has to cry out, his cock jumping at the sensation.

 

“Fuck, Daddy, I’m ready!” He shouts, and Otabek gives in, flipping Yuri onto his stomach.

 

Yuri hears Otabek flipping open the bottle of lube, slicking his cock, and then he’s pressing between Yuri’s ass cheeks. Otabek’s hands press into his tender skin, and it aches, but he can’t focus on that for long because Otabek is soon pressing into him, skin against skin. Yuri breathes through the slight stretch, but Otabek was meticulous with his warm up and it soon passes. Otabek begins to thrust, slowly at first, and the motion pushes Yuri up on the bed, friction from the sheets on his cock a welcome relief. Yuri feels wonderfully used like this, pressed into the bed, with Otabek’s weight all along his back. Yuri can feel Otabek’s dick just graze along his prostate, and it isn’t long before he’s panting into the sheets. Otabek lays a hand on his head, pressing it down a little, before he forms a fist and pulls on Yuri’s hair. Yuri cries out, because he loves this, loves the pricks of pain on his scalp, like a thousand tiny stars.

 

“You’re being good for me now, Yura, but don’t think I’ve forgotten how bad you were today.” Otabek says, and his voice is going straight to Yuri’s dick. He sounds absolutely wrecked, each few words cut off by a gasp. “You aren’t allowed to come until I say.”

 

Yuri nods, the motion causing more pain in his scalp. “Yes, Daddy, anything.” Regardless, he bucks up into the sheets, seeking something, _anything_ , to soothe his aching cock. Otabek moans above him, and Yuri feels his grip on Yuri’s hair tighten. His head is yanked back, and their mouths are crushing together, Otabek’s tongue hot and insistent. Otabek’s thrusts become deeper, pushing against Yuri’s spot in earnest now. Yuri feels like every nerve in his body is alight with Otabek, and he can’t stop the quick cries that fall from his lips. Otabek’s hips meet his ass, pushing against aching skin, and Yuri loves the twin pain and pleasure coursing through him. Yuri feels like he’s burning up from the inside, the insistent press of Otabek’s cock sending sparks of pleasure throughout his whole body.

 

“Please, Daddy, I want to come so badly.” Yuri mewls.

 

“Not yet.” Otabek says, voice strained.

 

Yuri whimpers against the need curling deep in his belly, and tries not to rut against the sheets too much. He wants to come more than almost anything else, second only to pleasing Otabek. His body is lit up with pleasure, and his mind has narrowed to a mantra of _Daddy, Daddy, Daddy_.

 

When Otabek’s hips began to snap irrthymically, Yuri moans out a “Please come in me, Daddy!”

 

Otabek’s hand grasps for more of Yuri’s hair, and presses Yuri’s face further into the mattress. Yuri’s every breath is a gasp, and he can’t stop his hips from driving forward. Otabek is pushing into his prostate with every thrust, and he chokes out a “Yura!” before he is finally tipped over the edge, thrusts quick and short, filling Yuri up with his cum. Afterwards, he collapses on top of Yuri, his weight comforting along Yuri’s back. He lifts his hips slightly, and Yuri whimpers as the welcome shape of Otabek’s dick slips from his hole. Otabek turns Yuri over, more gently this time, and kisses him soundly. He nips at Yuri’s lips again, rolling it between his front teeth before sucking slightly.

 

“Good boy.” He says against Yuri’s lips. “Now, will you come for Daddy?”

 

Yuri draws in a breath, nodding, and Otabek finally, _finally_ , wraps a hand around Yuri’s cock. His pressure is light, and Yuri is beginning to wonder of Otabek knows how to do anything other than tease.

 

“Please, Daddy.” He whimpers, unable to do anything else but plead for Otabek to let him come.

 

Otabek smiled down at him, and thumbed the head of Yuri’s cock, catching the precum there. He focuses on the head for a while, just slipping it in and out of his fist. Then, he moves down the shaft, and tugs up from the root. Yuri groans at the sensation. Otabek’s motions become faster, then, and Yuri isn’t going to last long if Otabek keeps squeezing like that. He feels heat curl in his belly, and his breaths come in short gasps. He feels his body tense, and Otabek notices, twisting off his strokes.

 

“Can I–?” Yuri asks, unable to finish his sentence.

 

“Yeah, come on, Yura.” Otabek croons. “Come for me, baby.”

 

That’s what tips Yuri over the edge, Otabek’s voice in his ear. His orgasm washes over him in waves, and his vision whites out. He’s spilling over his stomach and Otabek’s hand, while Otabek chants “Yes, yes, Yura.”

 

When Yuri’s breathing evens out, Otabek kisses the side of Yuri’s head.

 

“Was that good?” Otabek asks. “Need some balm for your ass?”

 

“It was good.” Yuri answers, focusing on the comforting weight of Otabek above him. “My ass is fine, I think. You weren’t too mean.”

 

“Good.” Otabek replies, snuggling into the join between Yuri’s neck and his shoulder. “You do have to be nicer to Viktor, you know.” He reminds, sounding serious.

 

Yuri nods. “I know.” He breathes a little, still coming down from the high. “But when I’m not, you do things like this.” He says, smile wry.

 

Otabek shoves him, but he’s laughing too. “Yura!” He protests. “You can’t say things like that!”

 

Yuri’s tone is playfully defiant when he says “What are you going to do about it?”, and he knows that in a few minutes they’ll have a shower and go for a post-coital bike ride and then probably go again, and it’s all so wonderful that it fills him up from his toes, and it’s perfect.


End file.
